After a hearty meal, nothing beats a good night’s sleep. Since Kuwa and Nochi couldn’t share the same tent, Ori ended up bunking with the big guy. He didn’t know it yet, but that was a terrible choice. Between his nap in the cart earlier and Nochi’s thunderous snoring, Ori just couldn’t fall asleep. So he slipped out of the tent for some fresh air—only to find Ylva sitting by the fire. She gave him a knowing look as he stepped out.

“Well, sister, not so easy to sleep with those brutes around, huh?”

As Ori emerged, he also noticed that, on top of Nochi’s snoring, a strange, rhythmic metallic clinking was coming from Kuwa and Ozan’s tent.

“You can’t sleep either?” he asked.

“No, I’m on watch. We’re still on a busy trade route, so I keep an eye out for bandits.”

“At this time of night?”

“That’s exactly when danger strikes—when everyone else is asleep. It’s my duty to protect you. The two idiots can fend for themselves, but I’ve still got a princess and two children to watch over.”

“Sorry to put you through this. You’d probably rather be with your family.”

“I’m an orphan… my only family is the Matriarch. She was kind enough to take me in and bring me into her personal guard at a young age. I practically grew up with her. And though she sees all Valkyries as her daughters, I like to think I truly am hers. So when she commands me to accompany you and hunt down this criminal, I accept and carry out my mission wholeheartedly—like I do with all the others.”

“I see… me too, as you can probably guess, I’ve never known anything but the orphanage. So I get what you mean. Even if my guardian is just an old lady who yells all the time—not the ruler of some celestial realm.”

“That’s why we need to stick together… like sisters…”

Ylva said this while extending her fist toward him. Ori sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips, and bumped his fist against hers.

“Like sisters!”

“Go on, try to sleep a bit. And if you need someone to elbow the big guy because he’s hogging space, just call me. I’d be glad to.”

“Thanks, but no worries—if nothing else, he may be loud, but at least he doesn’t take up much room…”

Ori returned to the tent. With his mind almost at peace, he finally drifted off to sleep.

At dawn, the group broke camp in silence and set out toward the forest. Everyone seemed groggy from the noisy night—which suited Ori just fine. And so, in quiet, the day unfolded almost exactly like the one before. Ori was still amazed by how many trees a forest could hold. He spent most of the afternoon lying in the cart, watching shafts of sunlight break through the canopy, until the roots made the road too rough for anyone riding inside.

“We should stop here for the day,” Kuwa advised. “The path’s getting too rough for the horses.”

“We’re almost there,” Ozan countered. “If we hurry, we can make it before nightfall.”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere, kid. Shouldn’t there at least be some kind of path, villagers, something…?”

“I’ll admit, not even the faintest sea breeze,” Ylva added. “Strange for a fishing village.”

“It’s normal, trust me,” Ozan replied, scanning the surroundings.

“Yeah, in other words, we’re lost,” Nochi shrugged.

“No, I’m telling you—I recognize this place.”

Kuwa halted the cart.

“Look, no offense, but how could you recognize anything here? You haven’t been back in years, and there’s nothing but trees and rocks.”

“No wonder the elders say the Baru are idiots despite their advances,” Ozan shot back. “Nature is alive. Its mana is distinct—each place unique, recognizable.”

Flore stepped closer, resting a hand on Ozan’s shoulder.

“I think we should keep going. Even I can feel this place is special.”

Kuwa sighed. “Fine… but when it comes time to set up camp in the pitch dark, don’t expect me to help.”

So they pressed on, winding their way through the maze of trees.

Night had just fallen when Ozan suddenly cried out:

“There! We’ve made it! I knew it! What did I tell you?”

He leapt from the cart and did a little victory dance.

“Uh, Ozan?” Ori interjected. An awkward silence settled over the group. “That’s just… a small cave. No village. You can even see the back wall…”

“Forget it, kid,” Kuwa muttered. “He’s eaten too many mushrooms…”

Ozan turned on them, defiance burning in his eyes.

“Oh yeah? And what’s this, then?”

He strode to the back of the cave, pressed his hand to the stone wall, and closed his eyes. In the pale moonlight, the rock rippled like a wave, letting out a faint sound.

“Ha! See?” he said mockingly. “‘Oh, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he’s lost his mind… as if his own family didn’t live here, as if he had no clue how to get back…’”

Flore stifled a laugh. “Well… you have to admit, he was right.”

“As usual!” Ozan grinned. “But fine—being the generous soul I am, I’ll accept your apology, old cyborg, if you get on your knees.”

“As if. You’re lucky you found your way, otherwise you’d have been roasting on the spit instead of yesterday’s boar.”

“Speaking of boar, I could use a hot meal,” Nochi cut in.

Together, they all stepped through the strange stone portal.

On the other side lay a small open-air path, lit by torches on either side. The air was fresh and salty, and the moon shone clear overhead, free from any canopy. The group stood speechless. Before them stretched the entrance of a small fishing village, its wooden cabins glowing with lantern light. Ori stammered:

“But we just… I mean… the forest…”

“It’s Magus magic!” Ozan declared, spreading his arms wide. “Walk straight into a rock in the middle of a forest and find yourself by the sea in a little village.”

He lowered his voice.

“Of course, don’t try it at random. The entrances can only be found and opened by a Magus.”

“I really want to know how you do that,” Kuwa said, intrigued.

“You have to listen to nature—not destroy it! That’s what our magic is built on. No wonder you can’t manage, what with all your mining.”

The boy cast the general an accusing look, then turned lightly toward the village.

“Now I need to talk to my uncle without waking the whole place.”

He walked up to the first cabins, when a staggering silhouette came into view.

“Ozan? Tha’ you?”

An old man with a long grizzled beard and a bald head shuffled forward into the torchlight as the group caught up. He clutched an amphora in his right hand, from which emanated a strong, unfamiliar smell. He spread his arms toward Ozan, who grimaced—clearly unhappy to run into him.

“Oh lad, tha’s great, ye came t’see us! But weren’t ye off travelin’ t’the ends o’ the world?” the man asked in a thick accent.

“Yes, Harold,” Ozan sighed, gesturing for him to lower his voice. “I just need to see my uncle quickly—I won’t stay long. But please, don’t wake the whole village.”

Harold pressed a finger to his lips in a clumsy “shhh,” dropping the amphora, which shattered loudly on the ground.

“Bloody sludge!” he bellowed, loud enough to be heard back through the portal.

“Shhhhhh!!!” Ozan buried his head in his hands with a groan.

Ylva stepped closer. “Want me to deal with him?”

“No, no, don’t worry—it’s just Harold. Every time he sets foot on land, he grabs an amphora, because, and I quote: ‘I miss the water, I need liquid.’ We keep telling him alcohol isn’t the same as water, but he just keeps at it, day and night.”

Meanwhile Harold had bent over, trying to pick up the shards of pottery—only to trip and crash noisily.

“Alright Harold, good seeing you, but I really need to find my uncle—hopefully he isn’t asleep yet.”

“Ah, don’ ye worry. He’ll be down by th’ docks, chattin’ wi’ th’ others.”

“At this hour? About what?”

“Th’ boats, lad. They’re disappearin’, one by one.”

Ozan frowned, disturbed by what he’d just heard.

“Come on. Let’s see what’s going on.”

“If they’ve got no boats left, I don’t see how they’re going to lend us one,” Kuwa muttered.

“Let’s at least find out. Maybe we can help,” Flore suggested.

“Unfortunately, miss,” Ylva replied, “we don’t have much time to spare—”

“I’d like to meet Ozan’s family,” Ori interrupted. “And if we can help, even better.”

“Trust me, Ori, you don’t want to spend too much time with them. Although… my uncle’s actually pretty cool, in his own way.”

“Great! Let’s go meet him.”